Normally, I'm not one to advocate burning your own home, dousing it with poison, flooding it with chemical water, and then dumping salt over the remains to ensure nothing can ever survive there again. But this story has me re-thinking my policy and thinking a little more Old Testamenty. Some dude in Omaha has found his small apartment overrun with brown recluse spiders, having spotted already forty of these horrible death monsters. As is well known among arachnophobes, the brown recluse has a venemous bite and can hospitalize a grown person (or kill a frail person). God only invented the brown recluse spider when He decided that inventing bears with chainsaws for arms was too complicated.
This unfortunate man has taken to lifting his bedskirts and moving his bed from the wall in hopes of avoiding being attacked in his sleep, which is the sort of thing one has to fear when your roommate develops an acute case of stabby psychoticness. The article does not specify why the man has not moved out or whether he even tried using an exterminator, but I imagine in his place I would have tried one of these things. Hell, I would have considered flooding the place with big rats, in the hope that the rats develop a taste for spider. (Don't worry about the leftover rat problem--already figured out! I'd release a few pumas to hunt the rats once the spiders were gone. Then a wolf to drive out the pumas. Hopefully I could learn to live with a puma-eating wolf, but that's at least better than forty-plus venemous spiders)
In the meantime, I guess this poor guy won't be inviting any dates over, unless they're weird punk chicks who are into horrible deadly things crawling all over them.
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